Stephen Carson

Principal Consultant, Digital Education Concepts LLC

Chestnut Hill Reservoir

The geese have gone.
Gulls inhabit the islands of rock now.
And loons, launching out
across the water.
Their wing tips strike the surface,
leave double-rows of ripples.
The lake is dark, a bruise
beneath clouds
of the approaching storm.

Six beech trees
between the water and the road
have turned sudden gold,
the first to change.
I pick a leaf, turn it over
like a scrap of newsprint in my palm.
In the tip of the stem,
I can smell the summer’s end.
A scent like the gathering wind,
or the name of a friend
from years ago.


Appeared in Volume VIII Number 2, July 2001, of The Distillery Magazine.